Re-hash. Ho hum.

So this is how it's done, I watch her
aaaaaaaaaaIf the wounds dry up, the words die with them.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa--Stephen King, The Body

She sleeps with her mouth open,
and I would watch her
like she has something to say
I wait for it

But she never does, she's not one to talk now
in her sleep or awake

I have tried to decipher
these silences like overcast skies
or her bright talk once--
the sudden movement of clouds
to let the sun through, or thunder

Her moods not like the weather:
thunderstorms made her happy
or at least I think so
watching her

Pressed against the windows now
mouth again open
again silent

So this is how it's done, I watch her
The fog of her breath on the glass
appear, disappear in rhythm
like catch and release--
a heart at goodbye.


#
A re-hash of one part of a three-part poem I wrote last year. Kept the title and the epigraph(?), despite retaining only one-third of the original. The other two were blah, and needed work.

And I need sleep.